


Still a Brother

by leo_lullaby



Category: Captain America (Movies), Supernatural
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, If you have seen CATWS and up to season 6 on SPN you're fine, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slight spoilers but nothing specific
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 20:33:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4319088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leo_lullaby/pseuds/leo_lullaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Bucky have had their fair share of traumatic experiences. The boys are bound to have nightmares. Bucky had a younger sister before the war and is already a big brother by default. Even though he has been brainwashed and bruised, some instincts never quite fade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sam can feel his skin burning. Or maybe it is freezing. The fine point his destroyed sense of touch has between the two sensations has been obliterated. His cheeks feel like they are on fire while being pressed against an icy snowbank.

His hands feel like he left them on a burner for too long until they get too numb to be hot anymore and go to the only available sensation, cold. But they are cold enough to feel like he has been handling dry ice until his nerves are freeze burnt back into the fire.

He is shivering, he can feel it. He is sweating too. The burning cold makes him tremble and thrash to the side.

Hands on his shoulders make it worse. One is warm, one is cold. The perfect balance that should not exist makes him shake and want it to just all be over. But he knows that is not an option, it never is.

His body spasms and jerks front to back. That is new. He hears his name, muffled in the distance beyond the cackling of the fire and whistling of the ice.

“Sam!” The voice is sharper now, sharper than the flames and duller than the ice. It is a mix, it is familiar.

“Sam!”

There it is again. The flames are dying and the ice is quiet. He can feel his fingers again. They are all still there and not suffering from nerve damage. Fabric is bunched between them. He can feel his body. His heart is beating too fast and his bangs stick to his forehead, but he can feel his chest expanding to breathe and his muscles taut and ready to flee. He doesn’t have his boots on.

“Sam, please.” The voice is one he knows should not be sounding desperate.

His eyes flash open and he gasps in air. Bucky leans over him, one leg bent and resting on the couch beside where Sam fell asleep. His hands grab Sam’s shoulders tight enough to have a strong hold but not enough to be painful. Bucky’s eyes are wide and afraid as he searches Sam’s own.

“You were burning up one minute and then freezing the next,” Bucky’s voice is small but concerned and he reaches for the wet washcloth that must have slipped from Sam’s forehead during his struggling.

Sam looks at the other man in bewilderment as he tries to catch his rapid breathing. Bucky catches his confused stare and tilts the corner of his mouth up in response. He silently backs away to give Sam space and sits in the small area between the couch and the coffee table. Bucky fluidly reaches up and grabs a warm mug placed on one of the coasters.

“Here,” He gently hands the mug to Sam who is still watching him in confusion.

Bucky returns his gaze with a pointed look as Sam numbly sits up, re-situates a blanket that he does not remember falling asleep with, and takes the mug with a small nod of thanks in his haze. The smell of chocolate makes his mouth faintly water and his mind clear. He smiles slightly and takes a drink, the small fear of the heat quickly dissipating when he realizes the drink is just warm, not burning, and faintly comforting without effort. He takes a deep breath and rubs a hand across his face and through his long hair to get it out of his eyes.

Bucky sits there patiently, knees drawn up to his chest with his calves against the couch and his back against the coffee table in a way that could not be comfortable in the small gap, while sipping casually at a glass of water that looks slightly chilled due to the fogging on the glass with something that must be a lemon wedge floating in it.  
Bucky didn’t know what temperature Sam would be when he finally woke up, he had to be prepared. He is far enough away to give Sam space without making it seem like he was trying to separate from the other man.

Air easily fills Sam’s lungs now and the taste of sweetness on his tongue relaxes him. He looks over at Bucky with appreciative wonder and sharp curiosity mixed with disbelief.  
Bucky casually looks over at him and turns slightly to signal that Sam has his attention.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Bucky asks gently, his voice is controlled and a blend of emotions leading to the feeling that he would be perfectly fine with Sam answering either way.

Sam can only laugh slightly in disbelief. Bucky blinks once and his eyes narrow slightly in confusion. Sam holds the mug tighter in his hands, wanting to feel the comfortable warmth.

“Bucky, what…?” Sam cannot find the right words to ask as a smile pulls at his mouth.

Bucky scoffs silently and looks down at the glass of water held gently between his hands, cooling his skin and the metal of his fingers.

“Dean took Steve out to try and get him drunk again.” Bucky rolls his eyes slightly and Sam laughs at the rare streak of sarcasm firing from the other man.

“I-I’m sure he did, but how did you know? And why did you think to-to?” Sam still cannot find his voice enough to make complete sentences as he gestures around the room from the blanket surprisingly long enough to cover his legs to both prepared drinks and then Bucky himself who watches him with observant eyes that almost hold a faint sense of happiness and nostalgia.

“I know a thing or two about nightmares and repressed memories, Sam. And I used to be the big brother; I had a younger sister and a brother. Well,” His lip curls up slightly and he looks at Sam with comfortable warmth that Sam has rarely seen in him, “Not genetically brothers, but I was the bigger, stronger one so I took responsibility.”

“Steve.” Sam states softly, answering the silent hinted question. Bucky gives the faintest smile and runs his metal index finger along the rim of the glass.

“I can still play big brother sometimes. Everyone gets nightmares, even genetically modified super soldiers.” He looks up and meets Sam’s deep gaze.

“Even big bad monster hunters.”


	2. Still a Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky does not baby Sam, but he understands what it is like to deal with nightmares and feels a calming sense of normalcy when he can care for the younger brother. It is when his own nightmares hit that he has to look out for himself again.

Bucky is sure that his muscles will give out soon. Surely, there must be some limit to the amount of electricity a body can withstand before it finally fails…

His teeth hurt, his nails hurt, and everything else hurts. The currents find every possible pore in his body and wipe it all clean. The cold makes him gasp in surprise and suddenly the air bites at his still shaking flesh like a hungry predator. Gone, it’s all gone, names, memories, places, foods, faces…

It’s all gone and they replaced it with pulsing cold. It hurts to breathe and he just wants to finally sleep but he can’t, they never let him. His teeth chatter and he grits his jaw shut to keep them silent. There is nothing to hear over the snapping cold and faint screaming. The blood is warm on his real hand and makes him shiver uncomfortably. There is always so much blood. It freezes to his skin. It rusts the metal of his arm. Another jolt of electricity and all the blood is thrown off. Everything is thrown off.

Another shock makes his head vibrate against something hard.

One more shock and he is upright, panting like he just ran a marathon.

Bucky heaves in air and frantically takes in his surroundings. He counts the quick beats of his heart pounding in his ears. He feels his hands shaking and he hugs himself to stop the imaginary currents from jumping across his skin.

He strains to hear above the noise of his own frantic body and is met with the silence of the room and distant snoring he is too familiar with by now. Bucky sighs heavily and lowers his face into his hands. The metal is cold against the side of his face.

He rubs his eyes and turns to set his feet on the ground, suddenly grateful he decided to move into the living room and onto the couch after Steve finally fell asleep in the bed opposite his. He could feel the memories clawing at his brain from that dark recess where they live and breed in the shadows. He takes one more deep breath and lowers his hands from his face, determined to get up and act on one of the coping mechanisms seared into his memory.

Bucky is about to stand when he sees the two drinks in front of him on the coffee table, one a mug with faint steam rising and carrying the smell of chocolate and the other precipitating from ice cubes hitting against a slice of lemon.

A smile comes to his face, feeling almost uncomfortable to his lips but he cannot help the basic reaction. Bucky gently reaches for the hot chocolate and takes in in his hands to set on his lap and shelter carefully with the rest of his body.

The mug is soothing against his palm and he feels the metal of his other hand beginning to heat slightly. He shifts to take a small sip.

The drink is warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter ya'll, and probably the last. I got good vibes from the first chapter and I really wanted to write this reversal, even though it is short and sweet.  
> I would love to hear feedback of any kind! Love you guys!

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my lengthy fic and I'm seriously thinking about making it multi-chapter where the roles are reversed...  
> I'm kind of nervous to post it, I hope I am not getting people mad by mixing fandoms. I think the boys just share so much in common and could really help each other out.  
> Let me know what ya'll think!


End file.
